Miss Understood
by Chibi Kitsune1
Summary: Moira Queen calls Felicity to her office to confirm rumors going around about Oliver. Now with two chapters! Due to insistent requests, a new chapter involving our favorite couple has been put up. I hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Miss Understood**

She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt again. She made a fist to stop her hands from shaking. She couldn't remember the last time she was this nervous. _Oh, yeah, last week._ The elevator doors opened way sooner than she would have wanted. She stepped out with determined steps. It was time to face the music. She took a deep breath, turned the corner and pushed the glass door open.

"You asked for me, Ma'am?" she hesitated at the door.

Moira Queen-Steele looked up from the paperwork at her desk and looked at the pretty blonde girl who entered her office. "Felicity Smoak. Come in, take a seat."

Felicity swallowed and moved to chair the older woman indicated. She sat at the edge of the chair, ready to bolt at any moment.

Moira fixed a steely gaze on her. Felicity's thoughts were rushing everywhere at once. Moira never contacted the IT department before today. She never seemed to have any use for it. Out of the blue, Felicity gets a call from her supervisor telling her that the CEO of Queen Consolidated asked for her specifically, by name.

Felicity's nature would never really allow her to become suspicious of another human being but ever since she started doing secret research about some missing funds and especially since Walter's disappearance, she had begun to become distrustful of one particular human being: the woman sitting in front of her. Mr. Diggle told her that Oliver has prohibited all and any form of investigation with regards to his mother, and Felicity reluctantly agreed even though it never really sat well with her.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Felicity cleared her throat and spoke,

"Miss Queen – I mean, Miss Steele. Miss Queen-Steele?" Felicity shook her head. "Ma'am, why did you call me up here? Did you need help with your computer?"

A corner of Moira's lips curved in a small smile. "Felicity," she stopped. "May I call you Felicity?" At Felicity's shaky nod, Moira continued, "Felicity, there is no need to be so formal, or so nervous." She paused and watched Felicity's face closely, "I know what you are doing with my son."

Felicity's heart literally stopped for two seconds and she felt the blood drain from her face. _Moira Queen knows that Oliver is The Hood!_

"Miss Queen, er, Steele, I – that is, I can explain. Well, not really, I can't but Oliver can, I think –," she stammered.

Moira raised a hand. "Please call me Moira," she said mildly. "And relax, I do not disapprove."

Felicity's brows furrowed in confusion. "You don't? I don't understand," she said. Then she asked the question that had been bothering her. "How did you find out?"

Moira shrugged gracefully. "I am not spying on my son, if that is what you're asking. Some particular speculations simply reached me from reliable sources. I would not have given much credit to rumors but I needed to make sure, especially since it involves you."

"Me?," Felicity squeaked.

Moira rose from her chair and went around the desk to stand in front of the window. "You are a very valuable employee. I have spoken to your supervisor at length and now know how very important you are to the IT department. That is how you met my son, yes?"

"Yes," Felicity acknowledged with a short nod. "He needed help with a laptop." _A bullet-riddled laptop that belonged to someone who wanted to kill your husband_, she thought.

Moira nodded indicating that she already knew that. "And after that, he came to you every so often for a number of other 'projects'. At all hours of the day, it seems. He even went so far as to look for you in other parts of the building when he couldn't find you in the IT department. Even when there are others available for whatever it was that he needed, he sought you out in particular."

Felicity noted that Moira was giving her statements, not asking her questions. She was giving her proof of her involvement, not really asking for confirmation. In Moira's mind, it was already established that Felicity was deeply involved from the start.

"And then there was that charity auction for cancer," Moira continued. "Oliver told me that Spanish brooch was your idea?"

"Not really," Felicity said. "I just helped track it down. Oliver needed a very specific type of jewel."

"But you were there, too, during the auction," Moira said. "I saw pictures of you and Oliver. You looked lovely in that dress and with your hair down."

"Thank you," Felicity murmured. She didn't remember posing for pictures. Did Moira's informants tell her about what happened during the auction, too? Felicity's hand had involuntarily risen to throat, remembering the weight of the bomb collar.

"And then, there's the nightclub," Moira started.

Felicity sat up straighter in her chair. _Moira knows about the nightclub's secret basement!_

"Your car has been seen around that area, even before it opened," Moira continued. "Is that where you and Oliver disappear to? Wasn't it under construction for a while? It couldn't have been very quiet with all the construction going on."

Felicity silently cursed her absent-minded parking. The blame for the discovery of their secret lair is definitely on her shoulders. "There is an area that is not accessible to the customers or workers. It's a very private, secure area."

"But you were not there when the club opened?" Moira raised an eyebrow.

"I was tied up at work," Felicity answered. She almost laughed aloud when she realized that literally happened later because of the Oliver's psycho ex-girlfriend. "I heard it was very successful."

"McKenna was there, as Oliver's date," Moira said softly, almost sympathetic. "That couldn't have been easy for you."

Felicity sighed. Moira was right about that. Having the detective involved in hunting the vigilante actually dating the vigilante was no cup of tea. "No, it wasn't easy. We were on our toes most of the time, being extra careful."

"So, you still kept sneaking around, even when Oliver was with McKenna?"

"Well, yes, though there wasn't really a lot of sneaking around," Felicity said. "Oliver pretty much kept Detective Hall away from the nightclub, except for that one time. We were already there before she arrived so we didn't really have to sneak."

Moira's face reflected a mixture of surprise and disappointment. This prompted Felicity to be a little defensive.

"Please understand, there was never any intention of hurting anyone, least of all, McKenna," she said. Felicity thought about the detective's shattered femur. It was probably something that could have been avoided if Oliver had told her about Helena sooner. "Oliver didn't want to lie to her or to you. He just couldn't help it."

"And your conscience can stand all this deceit?" Moira challenged.

"At first, I really didn't want to do it," Felicity answered. "But you know your son, he can be very persuasive. So, I would argue but eventually give in every time. I suppose I started to enjoy it myself. Not the lying part, of course. That's just a necessary evil, I guess. But, the thing is that what we are doing gives me a satisfaction that I cannot find anywhere else. It's given me a purpose." She straightened in her chair and looked Moira straight in the eyes. "I am not ashamed of what we do. It is not an absolute good but neither is it an absolute evil. And I am determined to continue with it as long as I can, no matter what _anyone_ says or does."

Moira stared at her with an unreadable expression on her face. Meanwhile, Felicity's heart was pounding in her ears.

_Oh, God_, she thought. _Did I just confess to being a willing accomplice to the vigilante's activities?_ Felicity just realized that her babbling little speech just challenged Moira Queen, a powerful woman that, Felicity believes, has ties with an underground criminal organization. She has a lot of power over Felicity. She could very well fire her, or have her arrested. Or worse, have her killed if not kill her herself. Her throat was suddenly very, very dry. Moira remained silent.

"Ma'am," Felicity started. Moira interrupted her with a wave of her hand.

"I asked you to call me Moira. I think we are well past formalities now."

"Moira," it felt weird to be on first-name basis with her would-be killer. "Not that I didn't enjoy chatting with you but why did you really call me to your office? Are you going to fire me?" She swallowed hard. "Or worse?"

Moira chuckled. "Felicity, dear, don't be silly. I'm not going to fire you." She expected Felicity to look relieved by what she said but instead the young girl's face lost the little color that was there to begin with.

"So, you're going to –" Felicity couldn't complete her sentence. Her throat was closed up with fear. Moira was quick to reassure her.

"I simply wanted to talk to you," Moira said gently. "Like I said, I do not object to what you and Oliver are doing. What my son does is his business. It just becomes my concern when his "business" involves an employee of Queen Consolidated. I had to assure myself that you aren't a gold-digger trying to sleep her way to the top of the executive ladder. I am aware of how important you are to the company, Felicity. You would not need to sleep with Oliver to get to the top."

"Wait, what?" Felicity was completely confused. "I'm not sleeping with Oliver to get promoted! I mean, I'm not even–"

"I know that now, Felicity," Moira interrupted her. "After speaking with you for a few minutes, I realized that you are not that kind of woman. You are really sweet and honest. I am a little disappointed that Oliver doesn't just tell everyone about your relationship, but I suppose the two of you have your reasons. Rest assured that whatever happens between you and Oliver, your position here at Queen Consolidated is secure. Just don't let your relationship with Oliver distract you too much." Moira smiled suggestively.

"My relationship with Oliver?"Felicity swallowed.

"You are sleeping with my son, are you not?" Moira raised an eyebrow. "Unless, you have another reason for spending so much time with him…"

~~O~~ ~~O~~ ~~O~~

"I spoke to Felicity Smoak today," Moira watched her son from across the dining table.

Oliver may have been lost to her for the past five years, but she could still tell when a topic made him nervous. He stiffened almost imperceptibly and his grip on the knife and fork in his hands tightened slightly.

"She's the IT girl, right?" Oliver tried to sound mildly curious.

"Oh, please, Oliver," his mother said. "I know that she is more to you than just 'the IT girl'!"

"OK, she's a 'very special IT girl'" Oliver teased his mother.

"Oliver," her tone had a hint of warning. "Tell me about her."

He sighed and put his fork and knife down. "I wasn't lying, she is very special. She even calls herself my 'personal internet researcher'." He chuckled.

"'Internet research'? Is that what you kids call it these days," Moira raised an eyebrow. "How long has this been going on?"

"It was a couple of weeks after I got back," he said thoughtfully. "I needed help with a laptop. You know, technology has changed much in the past five years, and everyone I asked, recommended her. She was very helpful. I guess it started from there. Whenever I 'needed something', I turned to her. She has never let me down. She's just remarkable. She is great at what she does. And I have come to depend on her because has a set of skills that I don't think I can live without. She's so talented." He smiled at a memory. "There was this one time, we were in the nightclub –"

"Please, Oliver, spare me the details of what you do in the nightclub," Moira interrupted. Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion, but said nothing. "She really _is_ special, then?"

"Yes. She saved my life."

Moira had been watching his face closely since he started talking about Felicity. There was amusement, admiration, fondness, and a glimmer of something she hadn't seen in his eyes since he got back from the island.

"Is this going to be permanent?" she asked.

Oliver thought back to that time Felicity agreed to work with him. She told them that she was just doing it until they found Walter.

"That depends on her," he said. Oliver looked at his mother straight in the eyes. "But I am really hoping she stays."

That was the most honest thing he had ever said.

~~O~~ ~~O~~ ~~O~~

Felicity paced back and forth in front of the computer monitors in the nightclub's basement. She looked up when she heard footsteps in the metal staircase.

"Felicity," Oliver walked straight to her. "Your text said it was urgent."

"Where's Mr. Diggle?" she asked looking for the bodyguard who always shadowed Oliver.

"He's parking the car."

"Good, I'd really rather he didn't hear this," she said nervously.

"Felicity, tell me what happened," Oliver was more than a little concerned now.

"Your mother called me to her office today," she said.

"Yes, I know," he said. "She mentioned it over dinner."

"You talked about it while you were eating? What kind of dysfunctional –"she stopped herself. "Not my business. What did she say?"

"She asked about you. She wanted to know how long you've been helping me out," Oliver answered, not really understanding the panic in her eyes.

"She thinks I'm sleeping with you!" she fairly screamed.

"What?" Oliver didn't really know how to react.

Felicity started pacing again. Her words were tumbling out of her mouth with the speed of a bullet train. Her arms gestured wildly.

"In my defense, I was already a nervous wreck when I went in there. Your mother called me up to her office specifically, by name, which I found especially suspicious because she has never called the IT department for anything. Then she told me she knew what I was doing with you. I thought she meant that she knew about you being the vigilante. She told me how some rumors were circulating about me being involved because you were always looking for me and that my car was seen parked in this area even before the nightclub opened, which, I admit, would look suspicious since I am not a construction worker. So I thought she knew about this secret basement. Then she started asking about McKenna and I sort of started defending what we do and that I wasn't going to stop no matter what anyone says or does. I really thought she was going to fire me, or have me arrested or killed. But she said that she didn't object to our sleeping together. She just wanted to talk to me to make sure that I'm not some gold-digger trying to sleep my way to the top. I tried to tell her I wasn't sleeping with you but I couldn't think of any other rational reason to explain why I am around you all the time, without telling her that you're the vigilante. So now, she thinks you and I are having this kinky sexual relationship that probably happens right here!"

As Felicity stopped to take a breath, Oliver grabbed her upper arms to keep her from talking and moving about.

"Felicity, it's alright," Oliver began. "It's just a misunderstanding –" He stopped suddenly when a thought entered his head. He raised his hand to cover his grin but the amusement was clear in his eyes.

"What is it?" Felicity asked.

Oliver cleared his throat. "I just remembered what I told my mother at dinner. I really thought she was asking about your computer skills. I swear I had no idea she thought I was sleeping with you."

"What did you say?" her eyes had narrowed suspiciously.

"I told her that you were great at what you do and that you were very talented with a certain set of skills that I couldn't live without." He told her with some amusement.

It took a moment for Felicity to understand the innuendo.

"Oh! Ewww!" she shoved at his chest in annoyance.

Oliver captured her wrist against his chest and chuckled.

"Wait," he said, remembering something she had said in her high-speed rambling. "Did you say my mother didn't object to my sleeping with you?"

Felicity was suddenly aware of how close Oliver stood and that her hand flattened against his hard chest. The playful teasing atmosphere was suddenly more intense.

"She, uh, said she wouldn't fire me," she licked her lips nervously.

Oliver's gaze was drawn by the movement of her tongue and stayed there.

"Interesting," he murmured as he leaned in.

The sound of footsteps on the metal staircase was like a splash of cold water. They jumped away from each other as Diggle came into view.

"So, what's the emergency?" Diggle asked.

Oliver looked at him. "Apparently, I'm sleeping with Felicity," he said calmly.

"About time," Diggle chuckled.

Felicity gasped and looked at them incredulously.

The End…


	2. Chapter 2

**Miss Understood (Chapter 2)**

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All characters belong to the creators of Arrow.

A.N. : I hesitate to publish follow ups or sequels because they never seem to measure up to the success of the original story. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Summary: Set in episode 21, a few hours after the Arrow team's caper at Merlyn Global Group, our favourite computer analyst has a bit of a wardrobe malfunction.

Felicity Smoak groaned and massaged the back of her neck as she leaned back on her chair. She had been looking at the computer screen for twenty minutes now and nothing was really registering in her tired, tired eyes. Her hand went up to her face to adjust her glasses when she remembered that she was still wearing contact lenses.

She sighed. She had remembered to return her Big Belly Burger delivery girl uniform but forgot to take her contact lenses out when she changed her clothes after their little adventure at the Merlyn Global Group building. Looking down at her outfit right now, she regretted returning her uniform so promptly.

For the past week, she had been so busy hacking or attempting to hack into the Merlyn company hard drives that her laundry basket just kept piling up until all she had left was an old mustard yellow coloured dress that had become too tight around the hip and thigh areas. She paired that with an even older pair of pumps. She hadn't worn the shoes in so many years that she had forgotten even owning them. Old as the shoes were, they were the only shoes in her closet that matched the dress. She was never really particular about the clothes she wore but since she started working with Diggle and Oliver, who always looked like they just stepped off the catwalk, she had to upgrade her style.

Speaking of her male supermodels, her gaze turned to the large tumbler of coffee beside her keyboard. She had arrived at the club's basement a few hours ago to find a steaming tumbler of coffee near the computer monitors. She had been quite annoyed at first because since she took over running the computers in the basement, she had constantly reminded them to keep all and any liquid away from the computers. And now here was a big, steaming tumbler of computer-damaging coffee just sitting there. She was about to call Oliver just to give him a good scolding when she noticed a note stuck to the side of the tumbler.

_Dear Barbie _(Felicity grinned. That was what Diggle called her when he rescued her from the security at Merlyn)_, since you are probably coming in early to get started on the Merlyn data, we got you this huge cup of coffee to keep you going. Love, __Diggle and__ Oliver_

_P.S. The club's coffee is terrible to we got this from a legitimate coffee shop. But if you need something stronger, feel free to get a drink or two at the bar. My treat. _

The note was written with two distinctive types of penmanship. The body was written by Diggle and Oliver added the postscript. How cute! Her supermodels were giving gifts and writing notes together like a couple. They probably even argued about billing, she thought as she twirled a pen between her fingers. What would their couple nickname be? Digoliver? Oligle?

She laughed out loud at her own joke and accidentally dropped her pen on the floor. As she leaned down to pick up her pen, she heard a loud rip and felt a cool draft of air on the right side of her torso.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed as her hands flew to the right side of her dress. A significant hole had formed at the waist of her dress. The hole grew steadily with every move she made. Even breathing caused the tear to widen. She sucked in her breath to slow down the progress of the tear but as soon as she let out her breath, the hole grew another couple of inches.

She looked frantically around the basement. Weapons. Gym equipment. Lab equipment. Hi-tech computers. Where was a good sewing machine when you needed one? Her gaze fell on a black duffel bag sitting at a corner.

Of course, she thought, Diggle sometimes left a change of clothes in their hideout. With one hand holding the edges of ripped dress together, she grabbed her phone and dialled his number. He answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Felicity –"

"Hey, John," she said hurriedly. "Listen, I had a little wardrobe malfunction here at the club. I found your duffel bag. Do you mind if I borrow one of your shirts?"

"My shirt? Sure, no problem. But Oliver –"

Felicity didn't hear the rest of Diggle's words when she felt a new tear on the left side of her dress this time. Merely raising her arm to place the phone near her ear was causing the tear to extend.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she hung up on him while he was in midsentence and rushed to the duffel. She grabbed the topmost shirt in it.

She stumbled on the way up the stairs to the bathroom but managed to grab the handrail to keep her from falling flat on her face. She looked down to see what tripped her.

"Of course!" She threw up her hands and caused the tear on both sides of her dress to reach her armpits. The sole of her left shoe had opened up. The goddess of fashion must really hate her outfit. "I know mustard yellow isn't my color. I had no choice!" she wanted to scream at the invisible fashion police.

The damaged shoes had her limping all the way to the bathroom. She quickly took off the tattered remains of her dress and slipped into Diggle's shirt. She had initially intended to put it over the dress then drive home to get a change of clothes but the dress had literally fallen apart.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing Diggle's dress shirt. The shirt was soft to her skin and was obviously expensive and of high quality. It had a fancy monogrammed logo or something in the breast pocket and on the cuffs. It was probably one of those shirts that he wore when he accompanied Oliver to fancy parties. This wasn't a shirt that you left carelessly in a duffel bag. Oliver must be paying Diggle big money to be able to afford a shirt like this.

_Maybe I should ask Oliver to get Queen Consolidated to give me a raise_, Felicity thought. _Or at least, clothing allowance_. She stared mournfully at the remains of her dress and shoes.

She sighed and kicked off her broken shoes. Her day was just not going well at all. First, her computer skills were being greatly challenged by the Merlyn Global Group data and now her clothes were falling apart while she wore them. She could use a cold beer right about now.

Her head came up as she remembered Oliver's post-script. He had given her permission to raid his bar for something to drink and she was going to take him up on it. She looked at her bare feet. The club was closed for the day and it was sure to be deserted. There was no danger of anyone seeing her in her state of dishabille. Besides, she was just going to grab a bottle and then run back to the basement. Five minutes, tops. She walked to wards the door to the club with determined steps.

She faced a dilemma as she got behind the bar. The Verdant held a reputation of offering every kind of drink party-goers can think of, so now she was looking at a wide array of beer bottles. Most of them she didn't even recognize. Some of the labels were written in foreign languages. She grabbed two bottles with labels in English.

"Strong iced beer or sweet low calorie?" she asked herself aloud. Her day was definitely deserving of a manly, strong iced beer but the state of her dress was telling her to have something girly and low calorie. She was about to make a decision when a familiar voice called out.

"Hello?"

Felicity ducked behind the bar as she heard footsteps approach. It was Oliver's sister, Thea.

"Hello?" Thea called out again. "Is anybody here? I saw the lights on."

Felicity debated with herself for three seconds before emerging from behind the bar. She wasn't a very tall person so two-thirds of her body was shielded from Thea's view. Thea couldn't really see her shoe-less and pants-less state.

"Hi," Felicity greeted her.

"Oh, hi," Thea was clearly startled by Felicity's sudden appearance but a spark of recognition came to her eyes. "You're Oliver's friend, right? You came to see Walter in the hospital. I almost didn't recognize you without your glasses."

"Well, you're no Lois Lane," Felicity joked and then cleared her throat awkwardly. "My name is Felicity."

"I'm Thea, which you probably already know," she said. "So you work here? As the bartender?"

"Ah, no, actually," Felicity answered. "I work at the IT department of Queen Consolidated." She realized her statement didn't explain her presence in the bar, she continued. "I'm helping Oliver out with … computer stuff."

Felicity groaned inwardly. She was a really bad liar. But she had already used the "setting up the internet router" excuse and had now officially ran out of explanations for her presence in the club, especially after closing time.

"Right," Thea's expression was sceptical but she appeared to let it go. "I actually came to see Oliver. He wasn't home and he said he was going to be here. So where is my 'disapproving older brother'?"

Since Felicity didn't see him downstairs, he was probably out on a ledge somewhere crossing someone off their father's list. "He's unavailable, right now. But I am sure he will be soon."

Thea looked at her thoughtfully and sighed. "Well, I guess I'm gonna have to wait till he becomes 'available'," she muttered as she sat on a bar stool. "Is that for me?"

Felicity looked down at what Thea was pointing at and realized that she was still holding a beer bottle in each hand. She placed them on the counter hurriedly.

"Yes," Felicity answered Thea's question without thinking. When Thea raised an eyebrow, Felicity backpedalled, "I mean, no. You're underage. I'm just holding this for a friend."

Felicity fought the urge to bang her head on the bar. Why can't her brain come up with better excuses? Thea probably thinks she's an alcoholic liar stealing bottles of beer from her employer.

Thea smiled then shrugged. "So, how long have you and my brother been 'friends'?"

"We met seven months ago," Felicity explained. "I guess a few weeks after his miraculous return to the land of the living. I helped him out with a laptop at first. After that he came to see me for a couple of other things."

"All computer-related?" Thea asked.

"Well, not all," she answered thoughtfully. "There was a time he asked me to analyse an energy drink." It turned out to be a drug called Vertigo, but because of Thea's tumultuous history with that particular drug, Felicity didn't mention that detail.

"Sounds like he was running out of excuses," Thea teased.

Felicity remembered that moment. She had not yet known that Oliver was the vigilante at that time and so Oliver was making up all sorts of excuses to hide the real reasons he was asking her to do all those things. "That was the worst excuse, yet," Felicity agreed.

"Looks like you guys are past the stage of excuses though," Thea observed. "So, you and Oliver do "computer stuff' here at the club?" She looked around as if to say there were no computers in sight.

"We have a room downstairs where we keep the computers," Felicity answered the implied question. "It's in the basement."

"In the basement? Kinky," Thea laughed.

Felicity was about to ask why Thea would think computers in the basement were kinky, when Oliver came into the club through the basement entrance. He had obviously just returned from hunting down bad guys because he was sweaty and shirtless. And he must have come from the bathroom because he was holding her ruined dress.

"Felicity, I found your dress on the floor of the –," he stopped suddenly when he noticed what she was wearing. Or, more accurately, what she was not wearing. "Felicity, where are your pants?"

"Where are _my pants_? Where is _your_ shirt?" Felicity retorted, mortified. "I understand you walking around bare-chested in the basement, but shouldn't you be wearing a shirt when you come up here?"

"You're wearing his shirt," Thea pointed out. She had been watching their exchange as she would a tennis match.

"No," Felicity protested. "This belongs to –" she stopped and looked at the monogrammed logo closely. It was actually just two letters. "OQ. Oliver Queen," her sentence was finished in a whisper and she fell into a dazed silence.

"Thea?" Oliver just noticed her sister seated at the bar.

"Hey, bro," Thea waved. She teased him. "So you keep them barefoot and pants-less, now?"

Oliver was kept from replying when Felicity snapped out of her daze.

"How did you know I was barefoot," she asked. "You can't see my legs and feet from where you're seating."

"Oh, there's a mirror behind you," Thea said matter-of-factly. "I actually saw you hiding behind the bar when I walked in."

Felicity was blushing up to the roots of her hair. Well, this couldn't be more embarrassing. She looked from one sibling to another and saw identical expressions of amusement mixed with sympathy.

"Right," she said with a little annoyance. She grabbed the bottle of manly beer from the counter. "You two have some family thing to talk about."

She walked towards Oliver.

"I'll take that," she snatched the remnants of her dress from his hand. "And you can have the girly beer."

Both siblings watched her stomp away barefoot and pants-less. She closed the door to the basement with a bang.

"That was, uh, Felicity," Oliver explained with a small smile.

"Yeah," Thea smirked at him. "She said you guys are doing 'computer stuff' in the basement."

Oliver didn't really understand his sister's hand gesture for quotation marks but he ignored it. Felicity called her hacking skills "computer stuff"?

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "She's a lot better at it than I am."

"Really?" Thea raised an eybrow. "Wow. You're a big man to admit to something like that. Especially in deference to a woman."

"Hey, I've been on an island for five years," Oliver said defensively. "You don't get much practice on a deserted island. My knowledge is obsolete. Whereas Felicity," he smiled fondly. "Felicity has unmatched skills. When we started, she updated me on everything and made sure that we have the latest stuff. She has this thing that –"

"Whoa, stop! TMI, bro," Thea raised her hands. "I don't really want to hear details about your 'computer stuff'. I especially do not want to know how she updated you. I never really thought about that as something that was needed – or possible."

"TMI?"

"Too much information," Thea spelled out to her brother. "You know what? She's smart, cute, funny, and she stands up to you. You should keep her."

Oliver thought back on how valuable Felicity had become to their operation.

"Believe me, Thea, I'm doing the best that I can to keep her with me," he said.

"Then you should probably buy her a new dress," she suggested.

A few hours later...

"I'm going out," Oliver said as he grabbed his jacket.

Diggle looked up from the computer screen. "Ok. We'll call you as soon as we have some new information."

Felicity kept her eyes on the monitor and tried hard not to look at Oliver. Or at least not at his shirt. She was could be mistaken but it looked like he was wearing the shirt she had just returned to him. He probably had dozens of those shirts. He couldn't possibly be wearing the exact shirt she had worn earlier.

"Oh, and, Felicity," she was startled to find him standing directly beside her. "My sister insisted that I give you this." Oliver handed her a plastic card.

Felicity looked at the debit card with the Queen Consolidated logo. "What is it?" she asked.

After a thought, Oliver replied, "Clothing allowance."

Felicity waited until he walked out the door before she groaned aloud and buried her face in her hands.

Diggle, who had been watching her curiously, said, "Care to explain?"

"I'd really rather not," her words were muffled by her hands.

Diggle crossed his arms and waited her out.

Felicity peeked at him between her fingers. She knew exactly what he was doing. He thought that if he kept quiet long enough, she would breakdown and confess everything just fill the silence. Well, he's got another thing coming, she thought. Two can play at this game. He could wait for hours and she would not say one word.

Diggle waited for two seconds.

"Thea came into the club this morning," Felicity's words just tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. "My dress got ripped so I grabbed what I thought was your shirt from what I thought was your duffel bag. Remember when I called you to ask permission? Well, I was thinking that I would simply wear your shirt over my dress and then drive home for a change of clothes but on my way to the bathroom, I tripped and destroyed my shoes. Then my dress got even more ripped until it was literally falling apart. I was so frustrated that I decided to take Oliver up on his offer to get a drink from the bar. I didn't think I'd see anyone outside because the club was closed and probably deserted so I went up there barefoot and pants-less.

"I was deciding between two types of beer when Thea came in looking for Oliver. I was behind the bar so I knew she couldn't see my pants-less state. But apparently there was a mirror behind me. Then Oliver came in bare-chested and holding my ripped up dress. Then Thea said I was actually wearing Oliver's shirt and not yours. And then –" she took a breath and threw up her hands. "Oh, it doesn't really matter what happened next. The point is Thea saw me wearing her brother's shirt and holding two bottles of beer from her brother's bar. She probably thinks I'm an alcoholic thief and liar stealing the very shirt off her employers back. Either that or she thinks that I am so in need clothes that she convinced Oliver to give me 'clothing allowance' so I won't steal from him anymore."

Felicity buried her face in her hands again.

"Wait," Diggle tried to clarify. "Thea saw you at the bar carrying two bottles of beer and wearing nothing but her brother's shirt. Then Oliver walks in bare-chested and holding your ripped up dress?" Felicity nodded without looking at him. Diggle chuckled. "Oh, Felicity, Thea doesn't think you're stealing from Oliver."

"She doesn't?" Felicity raised her head.

"No," Diggle smiled. "She thinks you're sleeping with Oliver and she's making him buy you a new dress because she thinks he ripped up the last one."

Felicity grimaced. "That's even worse!"

"Sleeping with Oliver is worse than being thought of as an alcoholic kleptomaniac?" Diggle asked incredulously.

"Yes! Well, no, but—" Felicity threw up her hands. "Why does everyone think I'm sleeping with Oliver? It's never going to happen."

"Oh, I don't know," Diggle chuckled. "You've known each other for only seven months. Give it time, it'll happen."

Felicity glared at him. "You're coming very close to getting smacked with a keyboard," she warned. "I think you better go."

Diggle raised his arms in mock surrender. "I'm going. I'm going. Remember, though, I'm rooting for you, Barbie." He turned around and walked away.

"Go, Olicity!" Diggle raised a fist and punched the air.

Felicity watched his retreating back with an annoyed look on her face … but an involuntary smile slowly lifted a corner of her lips.

The End (for real this time?)


End file.
